


Like Cake...

by junko



Series: Scatter and Howl [55]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 22:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7592677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renji deals with the aftermath of the Kuchiki clan scuffle and decides something important about his relationship with Byakuya.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Cake...

Renji grabbed Yakimura under the arm and hauled him to his feet. The nobleman was limp with shock, his eyes wide at the moaning bodies writhing around him. Shifting, Renji supported Yakimura’s weight and dragged him from the carnage.

“They’ll live,” Renji told him, stepping over the henchmen. Blood squelched between his bare toes. The whole room stank of copper and fear. War room, huh--that’s what Byakuya always called this place. Today it really looked the part. Sprays of blood speckled the fusuma panels. It was a fucking mess, but Byakuya’s aim was true. Ruthlessly, he’d severed tendons and muscle, but delivered not one killing blow. Stepping out of one poor sap’s reach, Renji muttered, “They might wish they were dead, but they’ll live.”

Dragging along the deflated, sobbing Yakimura, Renji left bloody footprints all the way to the Sixth’s guardhouse.

#

As he dressed in his uniform in the captain’s quarters, Renji frowned--so much for the Kuchiki clan war staying separate from Division business. It was all tangled up now.

Renji’d had to reveal himself as the lieutenant to the gate guard. Yakimura gave a little snort as though he should have figured out the ruse, but what was Renji supposed to do? The order was ‘lock him up’ and it wasn’t like the Kuchiki mansion had a dungeon. The only thing in the cellars was the sake store, and those were only deep enough to take advantage of the cool. 

So, he’d had no choice but to bring Yakimura over the line, into the Division. 

Plus, Renji’d wanted someone to fetch a healer from the Fourth for the henchmen--the men weren’t going to die, but blood loss was a real issue. Given that Byakuya had spared their lives in the first place, Renji figured that Byakuya wanted to keep ‘em that way. So, he’d sent shinigami to guard the henchmen, just in case one of them felt so embarrassed by their poor showing that he tried to committed seppuku or something equally pointless. 

Twisting his hair up into its usual top knot, Renji hunted around for a tie. There was nothing in his own pockets, and fuck if he could figure out where he’d dropped the silk piece earlier. Renji rummaged through Byakuya’s things, hoping maybe Aio or some other servant had tucked Renji’s little ragged bit of silk among Byakuya’s bits and bobs. 

On the dresser there was a strip of skyblue silk with a hairpin stuck in it. The hairpin looked expensive, probably custom-made, given that the head of the pin was the shape of a three cherry blossoms coming off one stem. The blossoms were inset with a pale pink jewel. Renji picked it up, considered the wisdom of ‘borrowing’ it, and quickly put it back. Renji had never seen Byakuya tie his hair back, which meant the jeweled piece had probably belonged to Hisana. 

Most likely, Byakuya had it out because the plum trees were blooming. It was the anniversary of her death, almost.

Renji was just about to give up finding anything for his hair, when he spotted another ribbon--this one red. There was nothing that seemed special about it, so Renji pulled it from its place over the mirror and wrapped it around his topknot. With a loop and a yank, he secured it tightly.

Once he’d washed his feet and put back on tabi and sandals, Renji slid Zabimaru back into place and made his way back to the guardhouse. 

The day was almost gone. Dusk had settled on the Division. Lanterns were being lit under porches and porticos. The uguisu, the bush warbler, sang out its long, spring sound--another reminder of the plum blossoms. Hanafuda was hardly Renji’s sort of game, but he knew enough to know the bird and the flower traditionally shared the same card. Hadn’t Byakuya told him once that he and Hisana played hanafuda?

Renji put that out of his mind.

Pushing through the security doors, Renji heard Nanako’s voice shouting “..by whose authority is this man being held?”

Raising his hand guiltily, Renji said, “Mine.”

She spun around, looking ready to unleash a torrent of angry words, but when she recognized Renji, she froze. Nanako’s mouth worked for several moments, and then a bright blush deepened her dark skin from her neck to her forehead.

Oh, fuck. Right. She’d interrupted the whole… 

“Uh,” Renji started, tucking his hand behind his neck like an awkward schoolboy.

But, Nanako recovered quickly, “Are you out of your mind, Lieutenant? We can’t hold Kuchiki here! From what he’s said, he’s committed no crime against the Gotei.”

“Well, he’s a liar,” Renji said calmly, looking over Nanako’s shoulder to give Yakimura a hard glare. “This is the guy that kidnapped…” Crap, he could only remember the homonym, ”Thunder Goat. She’s an unseated officer in the Gotei, so that’s a crime against the Gotei.”

Nanako looked up at Renji quizzically. “Thunder Goat?”

“Yeah…” Renji almost said ‘Ukitake,’ but at the last minute he remembered her fake surname, “Yagi? You know her, right? The one our Tenth Seat is all hot for.”

“Oh! Kaminari-chan?” Nanako asked, scratching her ear. “Didn’t she get a transfer so they could keep dating?”

“Yeah, she ain’t with us, but she’s still the Gotei,” Renji noted. Looking over the top of Nanako’s head he gave Yakimura a pointed look. “So, I’m holding this Kuchiki for kidnapping.”

Nanako turned and regarded Yakimura. 

The nobleman sat seiza on the prison’s hard-packed dirt floor. Renji supposed they should give him a chair, like they’d done for Rukia. But, it wasn’t like chairs were standard, so someone’d have to bring it in. 

Yakimura seemed to be trying to retain his dignity, but the blood from his henchmen stained his marigold haori in long, browning smears. His black hair had been tumbled and mussed on the long haul across the Division. Still streaked with tears, his face looked wrecked and Renji found he had to look away from the devastation in the man’s expression.

“Yeah, works for me,” Nanako said after a moment. But, turning back, she poked Renji, hard, in the chest, “But you’re writing up a report about this! And, it better explain why it looks like the Kuchiki was dragged through a war zone.”

Renji raised his hands in surrender, but chuckled, “Yes, ma’am.”

Realizing she’d overstepped her rank, Nanako took a stride backwards and tugged on one of her braids. “Oh, um, I mean, at your convenience, sir.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Renji said with a fond smile. He could see how she’d run a tight ship if he and Byakuya were ever called off to fight again. “Look, I should head back to the estate. Walk with me, so I can catch you up on some stuff? We haven’t talked, uh… properly since I met with those guys from the Second.”

“Oh!” Nanako’s eyes went round as if she’d forgotten about that amid all the things that had happened since, “How did that go, sir? What did they want?”

Renji held open the heavy door with its giant painted kanji six on it. She passed through, her eyes riveted to Renji. “Well, it’s not good. Soi Fon has a bee in her bonnet about Aizen.”

“Aizen?” Nanako all but jumped at the sound of his name. “But, he’s in prison… right?”

Renji nodded. They walked along the wall, in the long shadows of the grim and imposing guardhouse. There were a few barred windows high on the wall, but otherwise the building was featureless.

“I think we’d have bigger problems if he wasn’t,” Renji muttered, resisting the urge to make the Inuzuri hand cant that was a sign against bad luck. “No, it’s just that the guy was a popular captain--you know, before everybody knew better--and the Second Division is trying to root out everyone who ever had contact with him, who might have been implanted with one of them… what you call it? Post-hypnotic suggestions?--that thing that made Momo go rogue during the battle of Fake Karakura Town, I guess.”

Nanako’s frown deepened. “But.. that’s everybody. I mean, I took his calligraphy class. It was… I mean, fuck, he was a good teacher.”

Renji nodded. Apparently, Aizen’s calligraphy was unrivaled in the Soul Society--even giving Sōjun Kuchiki’s work a run for its money. Even though his art had been in high demand, rumor was Aizen would never sell it. He felt beauty should be available to all. Or so he said… Renji tried to imagine that attitude as one of Aizen’s lies, but failed. Thing was, Renji had always appreciated that egalitarian streak in Aizen. Fuck, it had been the one thing he’d really liked about the guy.

Which was why this whole thing was so damn twisty.

“Exactly,” Renji said. They turned at the edge of the building toward the busier and brighter quad. Moths danced around the lanterns and a few people hung out chatting in the warming spring air, leaning against porch railings and sitting on steps. “And between you and me," Renji continued, lowering his voice, “They’re going to interrogate our Division first because of those rape accusations in the Second District. Remember? The ones me and Kinjo reported?” Nanako’s nod was tight. She hadn’t forgotten. Renji continued, “Second is thinking that maybe some of our men were acting on the post-hypnotism thing of Aizen’s.”

Now Nanako’s frown looked almost murderous. She scoffed, “I expected better from Soi Fon. Aizen making men rape? That’s a new excuse.”

Renji swallowed a knee-jerk response to take that comment personally and said softly, “Yeah, well, I’d like to think maybe some guys might need a push.”

Nanako’s face was pinched and if she had a comment about that, she kept it to herself. “Do they know who did it?” 

As they walked along the edge of the busy practice yard, Nanako’s eyes seemed to seek out each man in the Division and give him a new, hard look, as if trying to determine if he was the one.

“I don’t think so. Not yet,” Renji cautioned. “In fact, they’re going interrogate all of us, starting with me tomorrow morning.”

She flinched at the word ‘interrogate.’ Paling a little, she asked: “Even the women?”

“Well, yeah, because they’re using this investigation as a cover to suss out anyone with an Aizen trap inside, ready to be sprung.”

“How the hell are they going to be able to detect something like that?”

Renji shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’m going to find out.”

#

Thunder rolled as Renji ducked in through the back door of the estate. Several servants gathered near the large hearth, chatting and slurping from bowls. The room smelled of simmered pork bone and soap. Dishwashers were busy at their tasks and everyone seemed to be talking at once. There were faces gathered near the fire that Renji didn’t recognize, probably part of Yakimura’s retinue. 

Renji hoped to sneak through, but his uniform turned heads and hushed voices. Seeing him, Miki waved him over. “Renji! Did you hear about what happened? There was some kind of fight in the war room!”

“It wasn’t much of a fight,” Renji corrected, taking the bowl of broth and noodles that Miki ladled up for him. He leaned up against the wall across from the fireplace. No one had any chopsticks, so Renji just brought the bowl to his mouth. Simple, but amazing! After chewing and swallowing a mouthful of noodles and vegetables, Renji continued: “It was kind of a…” he looked at Yakimura’s retainers, not sure how they’d take the news if he used a word like ‘massacre.’ His gaze slipped away and he shrugged. “Well. Nobody died.”

“Were you actually there?” one of the men Renji didn’t know asked. He was tall and rangy, thin as a rail with a thin mustache and salt and pepper hair. He wore Kuchiki blue, but the crest on his sleeve was that of Yakimura’s. “Can you tell us what you know?”

“Uh, well,” Renji noticed everyone was hanging on his words now. Even the dishwashers slowed their work. He took another sip of the soup and a moment to organize his thoughts. “Thing is, Yakimura made a big mistake. He insulted Captain Kuchiki’s honor as a Shinigami. I don’t know where he’s getting this shit, but Yakimura seemed to think that Shinigami aren’t ‘pure’--that our power comes from….” Hollows. It was a chorus Renji had heard before from a certain Auntie, but with a twist. Because pure souls got there power somewhere else, right? Rukongai souls were supposed to be the ones who were corrupted by having once been Hollow. Yet somehow that idea that all power came from corruption was spilling onto anyone with power, even Kuchiki? It was so ironic it was almost laughable. When Renji realized everyone was waiting for him to finish his sentence, he said, “Actually, I don’t really know what he was thinking… but he basically called the captain ‘dirty.’”

A low murmur rippled through the servants. Even the ones wearing Yakimura’s mon looked scandalized. 

Renji gulped down the rest of the ramen. “So the captain shot ‘em.”

“What?” Miki, who had been coming over to add more vegetables to the pot of ramen simmering over the fire, turned around, horrified. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth. “Not really!”

Nodding, Renji made the gun finger and mimed a shot. “Kido. Byakurai--one of the captain’s signature moves. I guess he figured if Yakimura thought that Shinigami power was evil, he might as well get a taste of it.”

The retainer pulled on the wisps of his moustache near the edge of his lips. “I’ve heard some of this talk about corrupt blood,” he said thoughtfully. Looking at the other servants, he said, “I don’t know about this household, but the Kuchiki I serve guard their purity fiercely. I had to go through some kind of weird ritual--it made me sick for days--before I could serve tea to the master.”

The Purification Rite. Zabimaru made a little spitting hiss at the memory. All around the kitchen, Renji could see servants nodding in recognition. They’d all gone through something similar. 

“It didn’t make me sick,” Miki said with a little blush. “But I never ate so much in the days after! Goodness, it was like I couldn’t get enough.”

“Shinigami are like that after they’re wounded,” Renji said, nodding. 

“What do you mean ‘shinigami’?” Yakimura’s mustached retainer asked. Miki and the others joined in, as though in a chorus, “Yeah, what do you mean? We’re not shinigami.”

“What else would you be?” Renji wondered with a light laugh. Pushing off the wall he’d been leaning against, he took his bowl over to the washing station to rinse it. Since the dishwashers had stopped their work to listen, Renji dipped his bowl in the soapy water.“If the Purification Rite affected you, you have spiritual energy.”

After scrubbing the stains out, Renji rinsed out the bowl. Finding a towel he dried it and set it with the others. Only after he’d finished washing it did he realize that the whole kitchen was silent.

Turning around, he noticed everyone stared at him. Was he not supposed to have done his own dishes?

He glanced at Miki for help. “What?”

She shook her head. “I… the captain wasn’t hungry after his injury, was he?”

“Not with Ichimaru’s poison,” Renji said, “But, yeah, he’s been starving since he’s been back from...uh, well... prison. Haven’t you noticed?”

“Just like I was,” Miki repeated. She held up her hands and stared at them. “I’m a shinigami? I could perform magic?”

Renji smiled, “We call it Kidō, you know--but yeah, maybe.” She looked so stunned, he had to give her a light pat on the back on his way upstairs. Chuckling he added, “Though if you can, you’re doing better than me.”

#

Renji made it to the upstairs hallway before he was ambushed again, this time by Aunt Masama.

“Is that traitorous Yakimura dead?” she asked him without any preamble.

“No,” Renji said defensively. Did she think him some kind of murderer now too? “He’s in the guardhouse at the Sixth.”

She looked Renji up and down, as if measuring his abilities. “Well, you certainly made a mess of the war room. I suggest next time don’t just hack blindly at everyone, Lieutenant. Aim for the head.”

Renji chuckled darkly, “Sound military advice, my lady. You should teach that at Academy. But you’re barking up the wrong tree. It wasn’t me that did the damage. Captain Kuchiki was the one firing off all the Kidō.”

A fan appeared from out of one of her billowing sleeves to fluttered in front of her face. She was clearly shocked at the idea of her nephew’s violence.

“Another thing you ought to know,” Renji said, thinking of the conversation he’d just had in the kitchens. “If you’ve been whispering in people’s ears about how I’ve been corrupting your nephew, it’s backfiring. Yakimura told Byakuya he thought all power was corrupt. That doofus seems to think any shinigami with power--even you pure souls, even Kuchiki-- is demon-touched or some such bull. And where would he have heard crap like that?”

Instead of giving Masama a chance to answer, Renji stomped away down the hall and let himself into the master bedroom without even a backwards glance. 

#

Renji found Byakuya sitting seiza near the firepit in the sitting room, reading through a pile of correspondence. He’d changed into a simple yukata, even though it was early evening yet and nowhere near bed time. His hair was wet, like maybe he’d taken a quick bath.

“Hey,” Renji said from the doorway.

Byakuya patted the pillow beside him, an invitation to sit. “Now that you’re here, I’ll have someone bring up food.”

“Yeah, I could use a few more bowls of that ramen everyone was having downstairs,” Renji agreed, coming to sit down tailor-fashion next to Byakuya. Byakuya barely looked up from his business, so Renji bopped his shoulder into Byakuya’s. “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Irritated at the interruption, Byakuya gave Renji a sharp look before returning to his reading. 

Renji gave Byakuya a sidelong glance. Why wouldn’t he be? Was Byakuya being serious or was this an obvious ‘I don’t want to talk about it’? Either way, Renji figured it was his cue to change the subject. 

Of course, now the only things Renji could think to say had to do with Yakimura. Like, he really wanted to check in with Byakuya to make sure it was actually okay that Yakimura was cooling his heels in the guardhouse and that his henchmen would soon be joining him there. And, he wanted to warn him that Auntie Masama was going to be… well, she probably wasn’t very happy with what Renji’d said.

“Ah,” Byakuya said, holding up a square envelope, the kind you’d see in the Human World. “It seems Captain Ōtoribashi has replied to my invitation.”

“What? For the foursome?” Renji almost grabbed the note from Byakuya’s hand in excitement. “Open it up! What does it say?”

Byakuya slowly and deliberately went through careful motions to open up the stiff envelope, no doubt purposely trying to drive Renji insane. It was working, because Renji was almost hopping up and down in his seat with anxiousness as he muttered, “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon! How long does it take to open up a fucking envelope!?”

At long last, Byakuya had it open and the paper unfolded. Renji crowded in close to read along, even though Byakuya read it out loud, “Dear Captain Kuchiki and Lieutenant Abarai, my partner Lieutenant Kira and I happily accept your invitation. Would this Friday evening work for you?” 

“Oh hell yes!” Renji said out loud.

Byakuya shot him a little look and continued, “Please respond by post at your earliest convenience as 1) I find this adorable and 2) it would be lovely to have some sort of written contract, regarding our various fantasies.”

Renji grasped Byakuya’s wrist. “Wait. He wants us to write down our fantasies?”

“Renji,” Byakuya said, “You’re crushing my arm. Are you really so nervous about this?”

Quickly, Renji released his grip. Rain spattered on the skylight above them, reminding Renji of that afternoon he’d spent curled up in a pile of pillows and blankets in this very room. Byakuya had been too ill from Ichimaru’s poison to do much more than mess around. It’d been so amazing.

Yet.

Just looking at the cherrywood pillars brought back the physical sensation of being suspended. Constriction, immobility and… and something… equally amazing as that gentle day in the rain, an insane intensity that blurred the line between pain and pleasure.

Shivering, Renji tried to figure out how to articulate this dichotomy. “It’s just… all so intimate.”

Meanwhile, Byakuya rooted through his writing things until he found a blank sheet of paper and a brush and ink. “No, it’s important. Like that seminar. You remember, in the Human World. This is a chance to… express your… interests.”

Byakuya sounded so excited about it that Renji decided not to point out that on half of that questionnaire he’d answered ‘would consider it for you.’ “So… you’re thinking this is something more than just a big orgy?”

Glancing up, Byakuya seemed to be trying to gauge whether or not Renji was being serious. “It seems a waste to ignore Captain Ōtoribashi’s skills as a bakushi.”

Bakushi, rope master. Right. “So, what? You gonna finally consent to get tied up?”

Byakuya’s expression made it obvious what he thought of that idea. “It’s you and Lieutenant Kira that are the submissives.”

Renji pulled his own face at the use of that particular word, “Yeah, well, if you’re gonna fuck him, you should at least call him Izuru-kun, don’t ya think?”

Blinking, Byakuya set his pen down. “Oh. You… is that something you were expecting? I rather thought this was going to be more of a couples thing, with an audience.”

“Huh.” Okay, yeah, Renji could see why Byakuya would go there, given his whole watching/getting caught kink. “I guess it could be. I just remember that one time you talked about being hot to watch me top someone.”

“You couldn’t top Captain Ōtoribashi,” Byakuya scoffed.

“Oi,” Renji poked Byakuya’s shoulder playfully, “Don’t be so sure. I got you to one knee, didn’t I?”

“Hihio Zabimaru did that,” Byakuya huffed. “And only because I was briefly unprepared for such an oversized bankai.”

“Heh,” Renji leaned in and nipped at Byakuya’s earlobe. “Sure. I think you liked being overpowered.”

“A little,” Byakuya whispered. Renji felt Byakuya tremble a little when his tongue darted in to lick the contours of his earlobe. Whoa, that was a surprise admission. Renji really wanted to explore that idea a little more, but Byakuya cut him off by pulling away and saying, “However, that’s not for mixed company.”

“Oh. Sure, I get that,” Renji said, trying to hide his disappointment. “Anyway, I was figuring I’d do Kira. We were roommates at Academy, you know. It’s not like I never hit that.”

Byakuya’s mouth twisted into a jealous line. “I see.”

“I wasn’t a virgin when you met me, you know,” Renji reminded him. “I just never bottomed before. Besides, I told you all this when we were looking for a third. Kira’s got a kinky streak. I mean, I guess that’s obvious now, but… well, point is, he’s more adventurous than he looks.”

Byakuya nodded thoughtfully. Picking up his pen again, he twirled it in his fingers. “He always looks sad to me… or haunted.”

“He didn’t used to be like that,” Renji said. He didn’t need to add the obvious: Ichimaru. That fucking fox Ichimaru Gin had stolen Kira’s smile. “I’m hoping Captain Ōtoribashi will bring it back for him. His smile, I mean.”

“Yes,” Byakuya agreed. Looking down at the blank sheet of paper he said, “What if we each wrote a letter?”

Renji baulked. “You want me to write a dirty letter to Captain Ōtoribashi?”

“Write it to your friend Kira,” Byakuya suggested, pushing some paper at Renji. “I will write to the captain.”

Renji glanced at his blank sheet and over to Byakuya who was already dipping his pen. “You already have a fantasy worked out, don’t you?”

“I’ve been thinking about this quite often, haven’t you?” Renji leaned in to see what Byakuya had so quickly marked on his paper, but it was only the traditional salutations. Byakuya nudged Renji back in the direction of his own paper. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you read mine.”

Somehow that wasn’t a comfort. Taking the paper and brush Byakuya offered him, Renji moved over to the far corner of the room. Byakuya gave him a little smile, but Renji didn’t return it. He felt a little like he did when he was forced to do high school homework in Karakura Town. He scowled at the blank sheet for several minutes and then wrote:

> Dear Izuru,

> My stupid partner is making me write this to you. I’m supposed to tell you my deepest, dirtiest secret, so here it is: I kind of don’t care what we do. I’m in it for the aftercare, the snuggles. So, you know, whatever’s good. 

> I’m not super into spanking or serious pain. I was whipped once and I can’t say I’d ever want a repeat of that particular experience. I’d rather leave bleeding for the battlefield, myself. 

> Dog collars… maybe, but you know how I am about all that because of Inuzuri. Not sure I want anyone to pee or shit on me, but, you know, you could probably sell me on most other things. I’m flexible.

> I trust you guys.

> Yours,  
>  Renji

Not very romantic, but pretty accurate. 

After waiting for the ink to dry, he folded the paper up. Byakuya was going to hate it. He should probably explain himself better--say something about how it’s not that he’s not that into it once it starts, but he really just didn’t have the imagination for thinking up all the scenarios. Kissing and rolling around was all he needed, but… all this stuff Byakuya was into was like icing on the cake. Renji always took cake when it was offered, even if the only thing he knew to make for himself was a simple broth.

Cake was always good, even if Renji had no idea what he even liked in one until he tried it. And maybe Byakuya’s tastes ran a little funky, but it was still cake.

Renji looked over at Byakuya scribbling away happily. He’d shifted to lay on his stomach, his arms propped up on a pillow with the paper and ink in front of him. His head was bent over his work, black hair falling in front of his face. 

Too adorable to resist, Renji decided. 

Getting up as silently as he could, he crept over to where Byakuya lay. Part of him wanted to just lay right on top of Byakuya, but he figured that’d be too much. Byakuya had been loosening up, but he’d never been a full-body snuggle guy. Settling down close by, Renji put an arm around Byakuya’s shoulder. “How’s it going, lover?”

“You’re finished already?”

Renji slipped his note in front of Byakuya, who immediately unfolded it and began to read. “I’m sorry,” Renji felt compelled to say. “I’m not a roleplaying kind of guy, remember? This fantasy stuff, that’s your department. So, I just listed out a few of my hard ‘no’s. You know I just want to be with you whatever you’re doing.”

Byakuya folded back the letter up and set it down. “I’m terrible at aftercare, Renji. How can you possibly be in it for that?”

Renji smiled and gave Byakuya’s shoulders a hug. Letting his arm slip off, Renji rolled over onto his back. “Eh, you’re getting better,” he smiled up at Byakuya. “And what can I say? You know I’m into all of it, but I’m a simple guy. I just need a hug and a kiss now and again to keep me sweet.”

Letting out a small sigh, Byakuya said, “I should be grateful, shouldn’t I? You are astoundingly willing to ‘go with the flow.’ You’re experimental, but, as you say, also satisfied with nothing more than cuddles. How did I get to be so lucky?”

Renji reached a hand up to stroke Byakuya’s chin. Byakuya sounded so content. It was a nice change for them, because, despite how perfect everything might seem to Byakuya right now, Renji knew he wasn’t that easy a lover. Well, then again, maybe he was an easy lover, in a way. He was as flexible, sexually, as Byakuya imagined, but Renji did make demands. And it was a demand Byakuya had the hardest time with, too:

Respect.

Part of Renji wanted to say, ‘It ain’t luck that keeps me here, you hard-nosed bastard. It’s that you’re slowly learning to respect my ass.’ But he just smiled, instead, and asked, “You almost done with your letter?”

“Not quite,” Byakuya admitted. “Even though I can see the scenario perfectly in my head, it’s surprisingly… difficult to commit it to paper.”

“Heh,” Renji chuckled. “I bet.”

“Give me a few more minutes?”

“Take your time, babe,” Renji said, closing his eyes and folding his hands on his chest. Byakuya kissed his nose lightly. 

Renji fell asleep to the sound of brush on paper.


End file.
